A Wolf's Tale
by Mika Kino
Summary: WOW! I got reviews! Or is my mind playing tricks on me again? Oh well, Chapter three uploaded. Tamahome haters (like moi) and lovers (if there are any) UNITE! Genrou, Kouji, and Chichiri on another adventure, but in ol' europe.
1. Default Chapter

A Wolf's Tale  
  
a/n: Well, my first published Fushigi Yuugi fic. Listen, I'm in the middle of one of those 'in the rush moods' I get whenever I post a fanfic on here. YATTA! I'm soooo happy. Fushigi Yuugi is my number one anime, and I really couldn't find anything I had to post on here except a bunch of poetry.  
  
Okay, a little about this story... For starters, I love the movie 'A Knight's Tale' and I feel I'm the only person who does. In reality, I had an ancestor who was a jouster around that period of the movie, or maybe it's the reason Geoffrey Chaucer is my favorite author, (CANTERBURY TALES RULE!) But nonetheless, one of my closest friends wouldn't see the movie for one reason or another. She, like me, is addicted to FY so I figured, why not, and typed this up for her, in hopes she would at least check out the previews. But, by the time I finished this, she went an saw and got all happy on me and stuff, soooooo, just goes to show my timing and luck.  
  
Anywho, grammar errors are everywhere, I know, but I at least did spell check. I'm hoping to have time to run a grammar check in the next day or so, which I should. Happy reading fellow otaku's, arigato, and R+R.  
  
  
  
Act 1: Sir Ector Rides Again  
  
"STOMP STOMP CLAP!" Jade winced every time the pounding bounded into her temples. She lightly put her finger to her ear, glancing so no one would notice her gesture to ensure her future hearing. But so was the ways of the common southern people. "STOMP STOMP CLAP!"  
  
She turned to face Sybel, or Sabriel, as she was affectionately dubbed. She noticed the princess sidling uncomfortably in her seat, like a horse that had kept too long in a box stall. Her nails lightly tinkled over her many jewels lathered onto her small hands as she wrung them 'till her palms were pink.  
  
"Nervous, Lady Sybel?" Jade found herself almost unable to contain the yawn growing within her.  
  
"Ney, dear friend, choosing words is almost as much as a bore as this," Sybel's eyes, the hue of a blue roan, seemed to canter among the crowds, looking at the people with indifference. "perhaps, eager, eager to return home and to the privacy of my quarters, for I dwell on the lineage carried by me and how silent I am expected to remain."  
  
The green of Jade's eyes could not hold the laughter Sybel caught in them, but her shapely face could disguise her snicker. "Lo! Such queer words. They are not a laughing matter, for disgrace is on the horizon of your descendants if you do not act what is expected of you."  
  
The chatter between the maidens of the High Court diminished, as the minstrel stepped upon a planked platform, and his voice fell into rhythm with the jeering crowd.  
  
~=~=`=~=~=`  
  
Genrou stretched his legs out, his arms reaching behind a mat of flaming red hair. The dark colors of his loose shirt and chaps absorbed the heat of the August noon, but he was thankful that he was in the shade of not only a tree, but up atop an oak with a pleasant breeze. His beaded earrings jingled lightly as he bounced his head against the bark, skull rocking against his knuckles. He could easily sleep here, but as head squire, he was forced to remain awake, for his Lord had one mere tournament before him, and with that they would travel to Gelderland. That and the terrible stench, like the smelly elders at pubs, the stench that inched its way to his nostrils. The young man of seventeen summers snorted, though that reminded him of the tissue he had stuffed into his nose moments before.  
  
"Genrou! Chichiri!" the familiar drawl of his fellow squire jarred him from his perch within cloud nine.  
  
"Aye Kouji, what news do you bring?" shouted a voice from beneath the tree. Genrou pitied that fool who remained on low ground where the odor lay strong.  
  
"Genrou, you had better hear this as well. Sir Ector has favor in the match, three lances to none."  
  
The hazel pupils of the squire's eyes popped. His lord had not won a tournament in a good year's time. A smile found its way across the rim of his lips as he descended limb from branch in three bounds.  
  
Kouji, his closest friend, stood with a low shirt neck displaying half his chest, and exposing part of his heaving shoulder, dark hair in every direction but a path, despite the head band that slumped over his forehead. Apparently Kouji had sprinted his way from the arena with his news.  
  
Chichiri, the middle aged of the group, merely stood there. No pleasure gave way in his eyes of the ten farthings they were about to earn. He folded his arms across his muddy and faded green shirt, and heaved a sigh of pain.  
  
"Sir Ector is dead, no da."  
  
Genrou and Kouji, who could not help but relish in the moment, heard Chichiri's words, but with smiles stamped on their faces like a royal seal. It was Genrou's stupid grin who went crooked first.  
  
"Dead?" Kouji managed to laugh out, smirking to reveal his pearly white and perfect teeth.  
  
"Yes," the red head began, advancing upon Chichiri, still smirking. "for he sleeps! Rouse him!  
  
The silence was unwanted, and gave no token of a joke. None of the three moved. They stood rooted, eyes blindly staring at each other, then simultaneously, they slowly turned to look at the set of armor propped against the tree the youngest squire had sat within.  
  
"%*^$! Arise Sir Ector!" Genrou called, with no avail. At that he raced toward the corpse kicking and punching the steel, Chichiri and Kouji gazing at the spectacle, eyes wide with either fear, or surprise at the Squire's rude action's.  
  
"I-I can't think of anything to say....." was all Kouji could stutter. Chichiri stood bluntly rooted to the English soil, blankly nodding his head, gravity defying bangs bobbing. Perhaps they would have remained there for hours, but fate proved cruel.  
  
"Squires!"  
  
The two turned around instantly to face a noble, draped in red linen, bearing a lion rampant across his skinny frame, black hair slicked to his forehead, clashing with the yellow dun he sat astride.  
  
"Sir Ector is overdue at the arena, the opposing lord is impatient, a draw might be brought forth."  
  
Horror struck the faces of the young peasants, their mouths echoed open slightly. A draw meant no money, which meant no food. Oh, the horror.....  
  
"He'll be right there!" Kouji shouted over enthusiastically. The man looked at the teenager, then craned his head in the direction of rants and metal being nicked. Quickly Chichiri and Kouji leaned close together, smiling queer grins, blocking the sight of Genrou practically hacking his former master apart.  
  
With a tot-lot like clanking coconuts the noblemen reined his horse around, casting odd looks at the peasant folks he had been forced to converse with.  
  
"What are we going to do?!" Kouji fell to the ground gasping for breath, yanking at handfuls of his dirty, oily hair.  
  
"Calm down, na no da..." Chichiri managed to squeeze out, but the thought of never being able to sample to the sweet fragrance or temp his taste buds with graces of an apple tart was etched into the dark and evil corners of his mind.  
  
"No," Kouji hissed, his shoulders hunched forward, shaking in a fear that is little known to people now. " We can't even mount a horse to properly announce his death!"  
  
The pathetic wails reached the pierced ears of Genrou, and he consequently stopped to look at a frantic Kouji and a dismayed Chichiri. Walking over to his companions, he squatted next to them under the oak, and wistfully added, "I could ride the horse to announce his death. After all, Sir Ector used me as the mounted target, it isn't hard."  
  
"No," Kouji moaned as if the it was the awakening hour of the crypt keeper. "We'll still go hungry, even if you can mount."  
  
Then the sniveling of the young man stopped, and he abruptly stopped, and gazed up at an astoundingly clueless Genrou as if he was the King of Britain.  
  
"Even if you can mount...." he repeated, his voice less dismal. "Genrou, you can ride in Sir Ector's place! You know yourself you've always wanted to be a knight."  
  
Even the flaming red crop of hair crested upon his brow drooped. "I have?"  
  
Kouji blinked his eyes hopefully, then Genrou couldn't help but notice the grim determination his face suddenly contorted into, with only knitting his eyebrows. Fascinating thing, those eyebrows, Genrou considered; it almost looked like Kouji would gourge his eyeballs out with wooden spoons, he appeared so mad. "Aha..... ahaha....." Genrou attempted to laugh, but for some reason, his jaw was clenched tight. "eh, sure, why not?"  
  
The two began striping the armor from the dead man( a disgusting job) while Chichiri stood there, pity playing upon his face, until he was graced with the courage to speak.  
  
"I hate to be the voice of negativity, no da, but answer me with your name Genrou."  
  
Naturally, the wise man's words were ignored as Kouji and his friend hustled about, deciding if the shoulder pad actually went on the solider or the knee cap.  
  
The light colored brows knitted, and he said with more sternness this time, "Genrou, I said to answer me with your name na no da!"  
  
Genrou looked up as he adjusted the metallic arms. "Whaddya mean Chichiri, ya know my %(*$#' name!"  
  
An exasperated sigh escaped the former monk. "YES! I know I know your name! But it's not Lord Genrou, or Sir Genrou, certainly not King Genrou, no da."  
  
"Whaddya mean?" Kouji paused for a brief moment, with a questioning eyebrow raised.  
  
"I mean," Chichiri began, using the remainder of patience he had, "that you should know that you must be of noble birth to joust. Genrou-San, you can't just waltz in on your horse! If the nobles find out there'll be the devil to pay, no da."  
  
Genrou, however, couldn't have cared less. He flashed his ignorant eyes at his friend, a fanged grin broadening. " Then pray that they don't."  
  
~=~'=~=~'=  
  
"Visor!" Kouji called as Genrou found himself being led to the jousting arena astride Sir Ector's fancy horse. He obediently let the metal slits clink down upon the rest of the dinged helmet. He heard the faint pounding of the classic "We Will Rock You" chant, and a minstrel singing it.  
  
As the trio neared, Genrou caught the vendors at the stands selling hot sake (mmmmm) and fresh turkey, roasted on a stick. He saw the painted faces of the young children bearing the symbol of the opposing jouster, and grinned as a horse rode by the stands and the crowd performed 'the wave' fluttering banners, food, shredded shirts, and ribbons.  
  
He reined the gelding to a stop, yet it still pranced at little edgily, something that practically disturbed his breakfast he had three mornings ago.  
  
"Just remember," Chichiri hissed, "he needs to knock you off the horse to win the match, stay planted in the stirrups, get in your cradle, and hang tight to the lance na no da."  
  
"I know how to score Chichiri," Genrou replied rudely, and continued a little more softly in the most sarcastic tone, " after all I've waited my whole life for this."  
  
Kouji cast him a puzzled look uptop the equine. "You mean, you've waited your whole life for Sir Ector to have shot himself to death? For real?" he questioned surprised.  
  
The two looked oddly at the blue haired man, who shrank away slightly.  
  
At that moment it was the announcer who cut in, they same man who had ridden the yellow dun.  
  
"The score stands at three lance to none, in favor of Sir Ector. Knights stand your ready...."  
  
Genrou heard the patter of light boots as his friends backed away, the jeers and hoots from the crowd, the snorts of his steed, and the power he held in his hands, leather reins in one, wooden lance in the other.  
  
"GO!"  
  
Genrou left his stomach behind as the bay galloped forth, heading straight for the opposing stallion, the opposing stallion with the lance aimed precisely at his own chest. Yet, as grim and deadly as things seemed, he could feel his heart pounding with an excitement that he couldn't remember feeling before. Like adrenline, but more powerful, like he conqured the world. Whatever it was, the rushing sensation was something he wanted to feel again, and something in his gut told him that he would.  
  
The impact came sooner than he expected, and much harder. The massive wooden stick broke directly on his head, splinters bouncing off his visor. The pain was searing, as if he had been catapulted into a brick wall, and he felt the metal dent around his face. The red head felt himself sliding out of the saddle, but by some stoke of indescribable luck, or the knowledge that his comrades would have murdered him had he fallen, he remained seated upon the horse.  
  
All he could remember next was a flurry of four calloused hand attempting to slap him on his back, trying to check his pulse, and Kouji yelling "HE'S STILL BREATHING!"  
  
~=~=`~=~=`~  
  
"Sir Ector, we bestow this treasure upon you for your bravery...."  
  
Blah, blah, blah. Genrou thought the stupid aristocrat would never shut up, the freak would just keep droning like some king of annoying house fly. He swore lightly under his breath, as he secretly gazed at the faces of the royals before him. Most were skinny men with gray beards, and fat woman over covered with jewelry, like leaves on a oak. There were several pleased looking faces before him, but he liked less than half of them as much as they deserved. He felt Kouji nudging his lower leg, and quickly side glanced at his friend who was unmistakably mouthing the words 'check out the dame!'. He rolled his eyes behind the dented hunk of steel, cursing not only royals, but royal women. At that moment, he suddenly noticed a pair of blue eyes admist the people of the royal deck. Not just blue, astoundingly blue, bluer Sir Ector's pennants that flapped all over the stadium. He looked at a girl who he didn't notice before, and sat dumbfounded, but only slightly. (our hero isn't one for women, remember?) He saw Kouji mouth the words 'cleavage' and display a rabid smile.  
  
The was a slight pause, admist the snoopy group, and a phrase the Genrou hadn't heard the first time, was repeated.  
  
"Sir Ector, will you please remove your helmet?"  
  
He froze, completely. His stomach felt something like a dish towel being twisted over and over and over... WHAT WAS HE GONNA DO?  
  
"With all do respect your majesty," Chichiri cut in at a worried high pitched voice. Genrou could make out Kouji's face contoured, secretly pleading that Chichiri-San wouldn't say anything. The red head found himself sweating in fear too.  
  
"The helmet has dented around my master's head, it cannot be removed."  
  
The response, dead silence. Silence like the grim reaper's wake. Not a jewel bangled, not a man snorted, until the apparent highest lord, who had been addressing the threesome, gave a hearty guffaw, and managed between giggles to finish the acknowledgment.  
  
"Well then, good Sir, I proclaim you winner of this local tournament!" 


	2. From the Ashes

**turns on the St. Virgo's Cathedral Remix (smith version to be exact.)**  
  
Okay, chapter two. I apologize for making my *two* fans wait so long, because I would like to say, my lack of updates have been cut short because I am now a proud horse owner! (happy dance!) I'll write a fic to the person who can guess his name. (it's not too hard.) (hugs her new horsie!) Anyway, for hard core fans of the movie, yes, I'm skipping a scene. Why? I liked the deleted scene more. And the irony of the situation, William, (main character in the movie) chose a Phoenix for their banner, and what, per chance, is Suzaku? It was the deleted scene that got the wooden wheels turning in my brain. I just thought it was so completely ironic, the phoenix rising from the ashes. . . . . Wait, I'm not done with you yet! I couldn't think of any way to make Kouji sound "enthusiastic" other than his pysical actions. I'm not to good at his character, I guess I want to make him into a Tokaki hyped up on sugar. **bows repeatdly** Gomen, I'm trying honest, but suggestions ppl, suggestions are nice! While I'm on the subject, hwo am I doing portraying Tasuki (apparently Genrou so far) and Chichiri-san?Wai, I wanna know! (I'm really bad at this, can't you tell? I'll write something, then I'll post it as soon as I can, and if I go and re-read it, I can't stand it, and I'll either delete it or grind my teeth in my sleep.I just think the whole thing stinks, and my judgement gets really bad, considering I really don't look at the characters, just grammar and spelling and repeadtivness. Wait, is my insecruity an author/ artist thing? Is it possible for one to like one's worth? In "twinkle twinkle little bat" is a like a diamond, or a teatray? **momentary pause to regain 1% of santiy.) Oro, I rambled again. GOMEN! Read, now, the story, not this! Go read!  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
From the Ashes  
  
The fire was smoldering, but it still gave light throughout the cave, not to mention a much needed warmth and dryness from the rain outside. Kouji stared at the roasting fish Chichiri-san was daintily preparing, but for a change, Genrou's mind was not on food, or even sake. He sat and stared at the fire, an arm propped upon his knee.  
  
"Careful Genrou-san, you'll burn you eyes out if you stare to hard na no da."  
  
Genrou snorted lightly, and tried to run a finger through his hair. It was so matted, and course, like the fuzz on his face. Kouji adjusted his shirt and slicked his bangs back. Chichiri prodded the fish some more.  
  
How could he get the words out?  
  
"Guys," Genrou started uncomfortably "how long do you think we could keep this up?"  
  
"Keep what up, Gen-Chan?"  
  
Genrou spat at the now smoldering ashes. He carefully eyed his comrades from the depths of his pupils.  
  
"Instead of this . . . we could lead the life of a knight and squires." he said weakly.  
  
The silence between the crew was unstable.  
  
"Genrou-" Chichiri began.  
  
"We don't have a damn knight, idiot."  
  
Genrou's eyes fell to the ashes again, and he heaved a raspy sigh.  
  
"We could be reborn," he checked himself, making sure he didn't sound to stupid. "Like a phoenix, rising from the ashes of it's flame."  
  
The two older men blinked at the red headed teen, unsure of what to say or think.  
  
"Yeah, that's all well an' good, 'cept we still don't have a knight!" Kouji blurted out. Chichiri shot the brash youth a glance, then turned his attention back to Genrou. "What are you proposing, no da?"  
  
Gen-chan looked at the two from behind the curling smoke of the now dead fire. He wasn't joking, not that that was a consideration, but the seriousness of his eyes, their intensity caught even Kouji's attention. Just the way they seemed to find light on a overcast and raining eve brought stillness throughout the cave, the light of an optimist. For a moment, it was as if the rain stopped too.  
  
"I would be willing to joust, to pretend to be a knight, and that way we could earn money, maybe even horses-"  
  
"And hot DAMES!" Kouji added.  
  
"Win dames no da?" Chichiri inquired.  
  
"Well," Kouji turned rose pink. "we could win their hearts with our dashing, gallant, and manly profiles!"  
  
Genrou and Chichiri groaned, rolling their eyes.  
  
"And if we're caught Genrou? What will happen then na no da?" Chichiri leaned forward, eager to hear the younger man's word to wiggle out of this corner.  
  
"Caught? 'Che, right. How would anyone know?"  
  
"Yeah," Kouji added his two sense in. "How could anyone distinguish us from a bunch of royal bastards and bitches?"  
  
Chichiri eyed the two flea ridden, b.o reeking, greasy haired former bandits with ruined rags that were "stitched" together across their chest in what were attempts of shirts. His good eye twitched a bit.  
  
"Ah....... you're right, h-how could they p-possibly notice, no da."  
  
"Good, it's settled then!" Genrou displayed his copyrighted fanged grin.  
  
"Ne, one problem though," the red added cautiously. "we need a new banner, an emblem to signify out manliness!"  
  
"How 'bout a tweety bird, no da." Chichiri commented placidly.  
  
"Shaddup, mister blue haired smarty pants, it's you're manhood too." Kouji folded his arms crossly.  
  
"Well," Chichiri did his best to sound neutral. "what's wrong with Sir Ector's White Stag?"  
  
"Somebody might recognize it." Genrou pointed out.  
  
"How 'bout A WOLF!" Kouji shouted enthusiastically, waving his arms around.  
  
"Lying down; with his head raised no da!" Chichiri replied, almost as excited.  
  
"Standing!"  
  
"Rearing no da!"  
  
"Wolves are to common, they're like lions." Genrou said dully. Then a brightness seemed to fall on his face. "Can't you see it, a Phoenix, its end is its beginning . . . . like us.  
  
Chichiri nodded his head in agreement, and a silence fell back upon the threesome.  
  
"Then how about graspin' in it's talons, A WOLF!" Kouji jumped up, eyes bulging, arms swinging around in circles again.  
  
Genrou and Chichiri just stared at him.  
  
Kouji sat down slowly and begrudgingly put his chin in his palm. "Just think about it," he muttered. 


	3. Tamahome the Trudger

Konnichiwa ppl! Wait, I'm on the internet, so technically speaking, I'm on the phone line, so technically, I'm on the phone, so, should I say moshi moshi? Forget I asked. Anywho, I had a friend read this and said that this was better than the movie! (wish I coulda gotten that in writing . . . .) Anything with Heath Ledger in it is good. ^^ Arg...... I did it again, I skipped a whooooollllllllleeeee 'nother part in the movie. (the "Low Rider" scene.) Why? It's fun to watch, but boring to write. And I was dying to get to this part. Why this one? I'll start by saying, I HATE TAMAHOME! **cough cough weeze** He just irks me. (happily watches as the flames go by) So, this fic was my chance to humiliate him. (more flames, more malicious grinning.) I mean, and just when I was finding my blood pressure did not go up if he spoke, they introduced Taka, and I went right back to normal. But ignoring that, I sent this to a friend who also hates him (Tamahome that is), and a friend who is obsessed with him( still Tamahome), and they both said this was their favorite chapter. Hence, I put on the summary, Tamahome haters and lovers UNITE! And I can kinda see where both are coming from. For ppl who hate this chapter because Tamahome is introduced, I urge to read on because I will not make his life easy (cue the malevolent laughter). And yes, Tamahome fans, he will appear in his "natural fibers" again. Wait, are there Tamahome fans? I mean, the between the Swooning Hotohori people, the infamous DTFC, and the Nuriko people whose club name escapes me, is there room for a Tamahome fan club? Or have a just been ignoring it? Please let me, maybe I can .... no, on second thought, no body let me, I can't afford to have the CIA after me again. One last thing; I would like to thank the people that reviewed VERY much. Very. Very. Suprisingly, I have more of an urge to stick to this story than to work on my Harry Potter fic which has received five times more the reviews, plus one. First, I would like to thank Stariko (Tasuki no Miko) and Kei-chan, my first reviewers, who I haven't seen review back, but that's okay, I've felt more guilty from them than any other fic, poem, or story that I've dropped. To Sakata Ri Houjun (kawaii name) Go see the beginning of the movie! Kouji really hasn't run into a door he could talk to yet, but don't worry, he will, I'm not that unobservant. ^^ Chichiri is still twenty, three, -ish. Okay, he's the same age he is in the OAV's, he's no older, so don't worry about that. The last part of your review almost had me in tears. THANK YOU!!!!! 1) I'm a huge Shakespeare and Geoffrey Chaucer fan, and I hope I can write similar to them, but have people understand my works. (Canterbury Tales RULE!) 2) I consider myself a poet, if not anything else, naturally, to say my style is poetic makes me very very very happy.^^ You get to read medieval stories in high school?! Sweet! (I'm gonna be a freshie this year. --0) Thankx Seth! Arigato! And lastly to "I love Tom Felton." For the heck of it, I checked your bio again, and it doesn't really specify that you were talking about the movie. (unless you were talking about that actress) I has guessed Tom Felton was an actor, but you probably should have called mentioned that he was Draco Malfoy to people like moi who have the memory of a pebble. You could've flamed me if you want, because I realized 1) that I majorly went off at you for flaming my best friend. (even though that didn't tick me off as much as the last section in your bio.) 2) I'm pyromaniac, meaning I lllloooooveeeee fire, I guess as much as you love Tom Felton, "I love Tom Felton." I really wouldn't have cared. My but please, we can drop this cat fight here and now if you just take down the names of the people who you claim "stole" your fic. (ps: Nothing personal, but I will make fun of your pen name to the day I die. Did you know he has really bad teeth? I mean, one tooth is growing in front to the other tooth on the top, and it just looks NASTY!)  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Tamahome the Trudger  
  
  
  
"I don't give Suzaku's tail feathers! It's my turn to ride the damn horse!"  
  
Chichiri massaged his temples that were constantly throbbing from underneath his mask. Kouji had been whining that he wanted to ride the 'old geezer horse.' Genrou said no, because Kouji got the sake, he got the horse. This was going on to be a three hour battle of "na uh, yeah huh!" and other dim witted arguments. But then again, his hopes shouldn't be too high, after all, he knew he wasn't traveling with the brightest lights in the harbor.  
  
"Chichiri! I'm the knight, I should ride the horse! What would happen if someone was walking down the road and saw my squire astride my horse!"  
  
"Maybe nobody should ride the horse." The eldest of the trio spoke, and his word was law. And considering the roan was frothing at the mouth and dragging his cracked hooves with every step, is was a good thing. To the horse that is.  
  
"Fine . ... fine . ..so that's how you play $@%^$# " Genrou mumbled as his dismounted his ....errr ... steed (can't really call it gallant can we?). Kouji turned to Genrou to probably tease him further, and Chichiri had stopped to most likely chastise the two for their childlike behavior. It was good that all three turned at the same time, or they never would have believed it.  
  
"Morning!"  
  
A handsome dark haired man, probably of seventeen years, strode past the three. He gave the old horse a quick pat on the neck and a nod to Genrou as he walked briskly on past Kouji and Chichiri. They couldn't help but stare, and I doubt anyone could, if someone walked by you acting perfectly normal in every fashion, with the exception of that person being butt naked.  
  
"Ah...... sir?" Kouji started.  
  
"Are you okay?" Gen-chan asked tentatively.  
  
"Why yes thank you." The young man stopped and turned to them, squinting slightly in the sunlight. "Wonderful weather we're having, no?"  
  
"Sir," Chichiri did his best to not stare to much. "Where you robbed?"  
  
The man laughed a bit, and continued to walk. "That's a funny question, yes, I was robbed, but at the same time, an astounding no, for it was only of my reputation and current possessions. I suppose you could call it an involuntary vow of poverty, or fate twisting in cruel manner. And so, " he cocked his head to the side and scratched his ear bit, " I trudge. Yet, trudging represents pride of the gift our whimsical god has given mankind."  
  
The threesome began follow, or more or less their feet followed, pulled in by the poetic words of this queer company that all three would rather be without.  
  
"Yes, indeed, cheers to Suzaku and his greatness for what he has given men, and taken fro-AHHH!" the stranger suddenly yelped as his stepped with a crunch on a pine cone. (a/n: tee hee ^^)  
  
"Ummm, who are you . .. ." Kouji asked, almost scared.  
  
The man hopped about oddly for a moment, trying to dislodge a seed (?) from his foot.  
  
"Tamahome's the name," he muttered, spitting one the road. " writing's the game. For two ryou I'll scribble anything from summons, to decrees, patents of nobility, hell, even love letters, so long as it's real money."  
  
He looked up at them, brushing some hair back from his eyes, his face bearing a cocky expression. "I suppose you've read my book, Book of the Empress?"  
  
"Noooo...." the three replied in unison.  
  
Tamahome looked crestfallen. " Fine, it was alligoral." He sat down on a rock, twiddling his thumbs.  
  
It was Tasuki who decided that his time was to precious to waste with a naked "kiter" or whatever he called himself. He turned to walk back to his horse, flanked quickly by Kouji and a hesitant Chichiri. As a matter of fact, Chichiri surprised himself by abruptly asking, "You could write a patents of nobility?"  
  
It took a moment for this to sink into Tamahome's mind, and when realization hit him, a hefty sneer was decked upon his face, making him look all the better. "Ah, funny thing you mentioned patents. They have the roads blocked to victory, if you get my drift. Nobility must be established for four generations of either of the family to compete in any joust."  
  
At this, Genrou almost choked. Someone must really be out to get him, he thought mournfully. Would he actually have to ask this, guy, for help? Or maybe he was just bluffing. But a bluff was a chance he couldn't take.  
  
It was as if Tamahome could see the words formulating in the red head's mind. He just couldn't help himself. After all, he could tell pushing his luck with this young man might be entertaining.  
  
"Who, Sir, are you?"  
  
The question caught Genrou by surprise. He came up with the best spontaneous answers he could. "This is Chichiri of Dodgeington," he addressed motioning to tallest of the group, "and Kouji of Lawane." his hands swooped to Kouji who nodded. "I am...... Lord Tasuki."  
  
Tamahome eyed each of three individually and slowly, casually rising from his earthly perch. "Yep, I'm Joan of Arc, nice to meet you." He tried to shake hands with Tasuki but before Tamahome could utter another word of mockery, a small-yet-lethal dagger was at his adam's apple.  
  
"Now that," Tama spoke cautiously, "is something I do believe, Sir Tasuki." He paused for a moment more to make sure the dagger wasn't moving any nearer and held his hands up in a peace gesture. "Listen, shoe me, feed me, for Suzaku's sake let ride that horse and you'll have your patents."  
  
Genrou didn't even need to debate with his friends on this. "Alright, hearld Tamahome....."  
  
"Betray us...." Kouij started  
  
" And you're outsides will become you're insides." Tasuki smiled, knife shining in the sunlight.  
  
"As much as I hate to make threats," Chichiri leaned closer taking off is mask "you're entrails will become your extrails."  
  
Genrou waved the knife a bit more. "Then I'll personally string your flesh on barbed wire, and make you a pretty piece of jewelry for several hungry vultures."  
  
"And I'll gorge your eyeballs out of skull with a splintering wooden spoon!" Kouji added daintily.  
  
"And ....."  
  
  
  
Needless to say, Tamahome was thoroughly spooked by the time Genrou, Kouji, and Chichiri were through with him.  
  
  
  
  
  
A few more a/ns:  
  
I feel much better now that this chapter is finished. Writing with Tamahome was hard, I'm sticking one of my least favorite people in the spot of my favorite author and idol. (Geoffry Chaucer.) So I threw in a few gimmicks like making him good looking and poetic to keep myself interested. (I mean, he has to be poetic, he's a herald!) I was very reluctant to place Tamahome here, but it's not like Chirko and Mitskake would fit it. And it sorta has a ring about it. Anyway, please give me suggestions to improve his character here. Anything will be greatly appreciated. But just because he's now in my good light, expect little things that happened to him in this chapter (stepping on the pine cone, the three musketeers ganging up on him, etc etc.) to happen throughout this fic. I still hate Tamahome none the less. Another thing, was his entrance funny? To anyone? Was his dialogue (as un Tamahome-ish as it was) nice enough? Did anyone notice the play on Book of the Duchess? Did the other characters stay in character? Do I bug you guys by asking a ton of questions I should know?  
  
Okay, I'm stopping now, sorry for going off again. TTFN, until the next chapter, Tasu-chan's tournament, and the introduction of the enemy. Dum-da dum! 


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